I give in ideas

I take a drag on my cigarette
I know I am going to smell like an ash tray
Jacob is sitting next to me
And the rain is becoming heavier
The tree will no longer suffice to keep us dry

We are talking about philosophy and idolatry
But what he does not know
Is that he is my idol
The smart male that I can never be
My inferiority as a woman and as a sexual being
Is so so apparent to him
What I cannot give in love
I give in ideas
In hope that they meet his masculine standard

I wish to be that wonton being
Rare in beauty and sound in mind
But all that I am today
Is a leather jacket wearing smoker
Thinking of what is to come in these years,
The brick building, tree lined years

Is this what is to become of me?
A saddened echo of the heart I used to enjoy
I am searching so openly for that space
For me to fill up with the brilliance I fear only I see
My poetic soul is damp with the weather
Icy with the chill of the wind

I am looking at the small freckles on Jacob’s neck
Wishing for them to be mine to love
But instead he gets up and leaves me
The butt of my cigarette on the ground
The dirt and grime of the weathered sidewalk
Is what I look at as he walks away

I like this It's got a serious, slightly nostalgic edge to it that I really appreciate. I don't exactly understand what you're trying to say, though. This seems like a collage of thoughts and sadness patched into a poem.

I rather enjoyed the longing that was blasting through the words at the beginning. It was so simple, so human, and was a higher level of relativity to your feelings.

This reminds me of my most favorite feeling in the world, and that's what connects me to this poem.

Keep writing!

Thanks for the review!

One thing, first. Third stanza, do you mean "wonton" or "wanton"?

So, I'm really torn, here. I think you have fantastic imagery, but your poetry itself is reading as disjointed prose. Personally, I find it distracting, which detracts from your imagery. Plus, with the fragments, I'm not always entirely certain of what you mean? Like, the following, I'm still sitting here scratching my head.
The smart male that I can never be
My inferiority as a woman and as a sexual being
Is so so apparent to him
There's a lot of ways to deal with gender issues - especially in poetry! - but I'm confused. Just on the surface poetry-wise, you're telling, which I don't like. You could use that imagery I so enjoy to portray this idea. Anyway, in general, I find those lines really jarring, and I just don't understand them, or their place in this piece. Especially when you contrast that against the third stanza - I'm left thinking this is really a poem about identity crisis - does the narrator want to be male, or want to be an idolized epitome of the female? Yes, I am interpreting female, here - mostly because "wanton" usually ends up describing a female - same with beauty. Both are adjectives that tend to evoke the feminine. The "sound mind" bit, though, does go back to your second stanza, which I find really interesting - is this person your narrator is striving to be both female in appearance, yet "male" in mind? I'm not certain I'm making sense - oh dear!

Anyway! Overall, you're really strong with your images, and I want to see your poetry effectively convey that imagery! If you have any questions/want to throw tomatoes at my head/want me to elaborate on anything, just ask!

Mesh